


Toska

by drunkbea



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Gen, before seirin fic, first kuroko no basket fic, generation of miracles fall, semi instrospective, teikou fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkbea/pseuds/drunkbea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toska— At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toska

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I am aware that Momo means peach and not pink but I felt that Peach just seemed kind of weird. Plus, peach can be described as a shade of yellowish-pink so I guess pink does apply
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basket. All rights belong to their respective owners and no profit is gained through this fanfiction.

It is a rainbow coloured countdown to destruction.

**Red**

Akashi is sly, manipulative and selfish but Kuroko knows without doubt that he is not _cruel_ or _evil_. He does not like being kept in the dark, he punishes without mercy but he takes care of his own and that makes all the difference in the world. Akashi notices, makes an attempt to at least bring them a sort of satisfaction to motivate them to play basketball.

It was not always about winning.

There is a hard edge to his eyes now, they scare Kuroko a little and make him blink a little more just to avoid any prolonged eye contact with them. _Point quota_ not reached, he will say with narrowed eyes and a deliberate, slow drawl. There will be no punishment, not one visible at least but the training will be doubled, then tripled, then multiplied so many times until there is no life, no energy and everyone will know that this person is a _failure_.

 _We will be the best_ , Akashi says but what drives him is not ‘love for the sport’, not passion. Akashi says the words mechanically, because it is expected of him and so he says them. His hands twitch oddly as he says them, the muscles of his neck constricting and painful to watch. They will win. But not together and that changes nothing.

Fun is not an option and winning is always compulsory. Kuroko is not the only one who hates this type of basketball but is the only one whom fully realises it. Akashi looks like he doesn’t mind but there is a hard edge to his eyes and a cruelty in his words, actions and ‘drive to win’.

Akashi was always his own worst enemy.

**Blue**

Aomine’s lips are forever drawn into a scowl. He scowls at everyone. There is no one worth his time. Not even Kuroko can bring back the euphoria, the will to play basketball. Even in the mirror, he scowls at his reflection. _I hate you_ , he tells it, _I hate that you are my sole rival._ The people are useless to him, they cannot help. Only hinder. Practice is useless, when one is so close to perfection, practice becomes a chore like the game itself.

Some days when the skies are clear and there is no one, nobody with blank _saddisappontedtired_ eyes to stare at him, Aomine can admit to himself that he wishes that he never joined the basketball team. At least then, he will not have the gaping hole in his soul basketball used to occupy, he will have never soared so high that no one could reached him.

 _It would have happened eventually,_ his shadow tells him with an apologetic twist to his mouth when he muses out loud and is stupid enough to get caught,

 _Aomine-san was always getting brighter and brighter,_ he says guiltily as if it were his fault. It’s not, it’s Aomine’s fault if anything. If anything. But his pride has defeated his sense of loyalty and so the apology stays stuck in the hole where basketball used to be along with a dozen other words like _thank you_ and _I’ll always be there for you._

Instead, he scowls (as always these days), and turns away from the one person whom understands him as much as Satsuki.

 _Leave me alone,_ is the message he sends and for once Kuroko listens. Later, quite a while later, Aomine will regret but like before the plea to _come back, Tetsu_ will catch in his throat and like always, Aomine will be a coward.

**Pink**

Momoi hates herself. 

She’s a hypocrite because in the end, her love for Tetsu has no choice but to lose to her loyalty for Daiki. She can’t help it because Daiki has become a thousand shades of broken, like shattered pieces of luminescent glass that tries so desperately to shine in the dark. She _needs_ to choose him even if he pretends he needs no one.

Tetsu is strong. He can handle himself far better than Daiki and Momoi knows that out of all of them, Tetsu is the strongest, even stronger than Akashi because Tetsu’s will is unbeatable. Momoi is sure that Tetsu can hold on, that he will not let things crumble and bring Daiki back to normal and the three of them will be together and nothing will be wrong.

Then Tetsu resigns and Momoi knows it’s her fault.

She should have tried harder, she shouldn’t have always relied on Tetsu because now he’s gone and Momoi feels as broken as Daiki looks. She’s a thousand, no a million shades of damaged and she knows, deep down that maybe, just maybe she could have salvaged the situation. At the very least, she thinks spitefully, she could have _tried_ harder. 

And the worst thing is, she didn’t even try to stop him from resigning.

**Purple**

Disdain.

That’s all he feels nowadays. Disdain for basketball, disdain for annoying people, disdain for passionate people. 

Disdain for Kuro-chin who struggles so hard when there’s no point.

Why bother trying, when there’s simply no point? If you're going to lose because of a lack of talent then don’t bother playing the sport. Passion is useless. Practice is useless as well. Murasakibara hates basketball, hates sports because everyone gets so roused up when they have no god given talent or anything of use to contribute to the sport. It’s pathetic, really.

That’s why he tells himself he’s glad that Kuro-chin resigned.

Kuro-chin may have a special talent but it’s hardly wonderful and Kuro-chin is so bad at everything else that really, it’s good that he left. 

He ignores the part of him, buried under layers of hatred and disdain that _enjoys_ playing with his team, that finds Kuroko’s passes _interesting_ and kind of _fun._

A small part of him, buried so deep that he has no chance of even bringing it up during conscious moments and only thinks of it in the scant moments between asleep and awake, loves basketball so much it is a physical headache that manifests during moments of true unfiltered rage.

Murasakibara hates basketball. He truly does. 

Because he has already proven that if he repeats the fact enough times to himself, others will believe him as well.

Murasakibara hates basketball with all his heart and soul.

The only person left to convince is himself. 

**Yellow**

Kise is immature. 

He is well aware of this fact. Kise knows that his instincts get the better of him, that he is swayed far too easily by his emotions, that on some level he is a rather weak person. 

Kise is judgemental. 

Kuroko looks weak, Kuroko does not deserve to be in first string, Kuroko is not fit to be Kise’s mentor. But somehow Kuroko becomes Kurokocchi anyway.

Kurokocchi is someone Kise can respect, someone Kise does respect because no matter how much Kurokocchi denies it, his playing style is far more impressive than Kise’s or even Aominecchi. There is sacrifice in Kurokocchi, sacrifice tempered in will power and strength multiplied by how much Kurokochhi loves basketball. It is not easy, Kise knows more so because he has always been the centre of attention, to embrace the role of a mere shadow and let everyone around you shine all the brighter. 

And because Kurokocchi has, _continues_ to sacrifice so much, Kise wishes he could be his light. Kise is immature, judgemental and can be more irritating than a puppy on a sugar high but he wouldn’t mind _trying_ to be a good light. He _would_ try, Kise would give it his all because Kurokocchi is amazing and Kise’s sure that as long as he put in all they’d be a great duo. Because all in all, no matter what Kurokocchi thinks, he is Kise’s best friend. 

Kise also only finds out later that his best friend, could-be light, _mentor_ resigned from the sport he loves far more than Kise has ever loved any sport.

He feels sad. _Confusion. Guilt. Grief. Unhappiness._

He’s not sure what to do. _What will he do if Kurokocchi hates him? Which school is he going to? How is he going to live with himself if Kurokocchi doesn’t play basketball anymore?_

All Kise knows is that he will be long haunted by the what-ifs.

_What if I was there to stop him? What if I were his light? What if I had been more serious?_

What if I had at least tried harder to keep out team together?

**Green**

Man proposes, God disposes.

There is logic in everything he does. From his basketball, to his studies and especially in his luck. If every single time Oha-Asa’s predictions prove correct, then it is no longer constituted as superstition or illogical that he listens to Oha-Asa because it is _proven_ that Oha-Asa cannot lead him astray.

He is a man, someone with nothing on his side but what he makes of himself. He will have to be the one to propose, to ask for something he might not be able to reach otherwise but at the same time he cannot slack off. He will not let himself slack off because in the end, no God will want to dispose to any man who cannot be bothered to make an effort. 

Which is why Midorima Shintarou already expects the Generation of Miracles to fall apart. Genius will eventually lead to laziness and the Generation of Miracles fits that rotting and crumbling cliché to a tee. 

Everyone but Kuroko that is.

Kuroko is a genius in his own right, perhaps even equal to Midorima. But he is hardworking. He is the one to stubbornly hang on despite everything, he is the only chance their rotting cliché of a team has from falling apart. If anything, Midorima expects Kuroko to forcibly string them together like he always has. Midorima, dare he say, _believes_ in Kuroko. And this belief is the strongest reason Midorima is so faithful in coming to practice.

Which is why he does not, cannot, do anything when Kuroko resigns. 

_Why_ , he thinks, _whywhywhywhywhy._ It is illogical, it is incomprehensible. Kuroko, going down the path of logic and reasoning, should have stayed on to the end. He should have, as he has been, trying to kick Aomine out of his idiocy and forcing their team to stay together by hook and by crook.

But then again, a deadpan voice sounding suspiciously like Kuroko’s reminds him, Kuroko was always an anomaly.

In the end, Midorima is just a man. Kuroko is just a man as well. There is nothing he can do to force Kuroko to go down the path he proposes. 

In the end, it really hits home that Midorima is helpless to what God disposes.

Midorima is just a man who is good at shooting and Kuroko is the anomaly who defies Midorima’s logic.

In the end, everything begins and ends with basketball.

**Black**

In the end, Kuroko cannot hold on.

He hands in his resignation letter. He’s so tired. There’s nothing left of him, he _has_ to leave before they suck him dry. For once, he wants to be selfish, for once he just wants to _rest_ and play without the looming threat of heavy disappointment and empty eyes glaring at him. Akashi takes one good long stare, eyes blank as always and Kuroko meets it head on.

He doesn’t bother trying to convey any message with his eyes, he doesn’t bother to even _try_ to telegraph his wishes to his soon to be ex-captain with small subtle actions. Not even his light notices what he’s trying to say, to change these days and Kuroko can’t help but wonder what the point is?

“I can’t.” He says a bit louder than he needs to and Akashi looks as if he wants to flinch. Kuroko clenches his teeth to prevent a torrent of words from spilling out and gives a curt bow before leaving.

Surely, Kuroko thinks, reasons with himself, he deserves some sort of respite. He’s held on so long, pulled and prodded and pushed even as frost surrounded his heart and made _trying_ all the more harder. He tried, he never gave up but Kuroko’s learnt a painful, heart breaking lesson that in reality, there’s no such thing as forever and consequentially, never doesn’t last either.

He’s exhausted. Even now, as he leaves his team, the shackles weigh him down and it feels like he’s forgotten to breathe. Why, of all people, does he have to be the one desperately trying and always, always be the one to hold on? Kuroko just wants to breathe properly again, to let go without consequences because teammates are supposed to cover for you not watch you fall without a single protest. 

But no one says anything and even if Kuroko is just a tad heartbroken as he walks away, he simply has no strength left for anything else. In the end, no matter how much he wants to, Kuroko cannot hold on.

And he’ll never fully forgive himself for that.

_fin_


End file.
